Forty Six and Two Crabstickz
by Chic N Stu
Summary: Catlyn lives peacefully with her cat in her apartment in London, just scraping it by as a rhythmic gymnast. Then, the devilishly handsome Chris Kendall moves into the vacant apartment across the hall, and she instantly hits it off with him. (Read the bolded bit to see why it's rated M) Crabstickz/OC
1. Schism

**_READ THIS!_ I probably shouldn't be starting this one since I rarely update my other ones. But I have a few good ideas for this one! I swear! And this one will be a bit more "mature" than the others, and a bit more descriptive of it, just to see if I'm able to write it, but it won't be anything too weird. There won't be a lot of parts with sexual things, but when there are, I will warn you before the chapter begins. Other than that, the rest of it will be PG-13 with only _BAD WORDS_. But, I have an idea for my other Crabstickz one, and I'll get working on it as soon as I post this one.**

_/veno/set?id=60846599_ (Polyvore (punto) com comes before all links, unless otherwise specified. I don't care if you look at them or not, I just have fun making them, and they really aren't vital to the story unless I tell you to look at them)

"At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love. It is impossible to think of a genuine revolutionary lacking this quality."

-Che Guevara

Chris

The sky was a gloomy gray, the sun barely peaking through. If I didn't know any better, I'd think the sun wasn't even there. It rarely shows around here. As I took the first step outside of my flat, I could feel the first sprinkle of rain touch my skin, which doesn't satisfy me, since I'm moving to a new flat today.

At a quarter 'til eleven, my friend, PJ, came to help me move.

"Did you really have to pick a rainy day to move?" PJ whined as we took the last of the boxes to his car.

"It's not my fault! How was I supposed to know it was going to rain two weeks ago?"

He didn't respond, he just began to drive until we finally arrived at the new flat. Since it's in the city, we had trouble finding a place to park, being that the small parking lot was nearly full.

Eventually, we found a spot, which is the farthest away from the building, and then began unloading the car, and then, after what seemed like hours, everything was out of my old flat, and in the new one. I told PJ he could go home, and then I began unpacking. I was just about to move my bed when there was a knock on the door.

Assuming it was Dan or Phil, I yelled for them to come in, but then remembered there was a stack of boxes in front of the door. Luckily, I was quick enough to move them before they toppled over.

An unfamiliar girl stood in the doorway. She was short and petite, with long, curly red hair, and a package of crab sticks in her hands. Her ears were pierced multiple times, but not every hole had a ring in it.

"Hi, I'm Catlyn, but you can call me Cat," she said with an American accent. "I live across the hall. I'm just dropping by to be neighbourly and see if you'd like any help. Sorry about knocking your box over."

Catlyn

I think the sky's depressed. All it ever does is rain anymore.

_Maybe it needs Cymbalta, _I thought, laughing at my own joke as bystanders gave me weird looks.

The rain quickly soaked through all of my layers, and I began to shiver. With every step I take, I can feel the water in my shoes go between my toes.

Finally, I made it to my building, and I quickly changed into something comfortable and dry, and then dried my hair.

"I miss you," I said into the phone, as I scratched my cat while he looked out of the window.

"Cat, you can't keep calling me up every time you get lonely," my twin, Frankie, said.

"I don't have anyone else to call or anything."

"What about that Vanessa girl?"

"Contessa?"

"Yeah! Do you guys still talk?"

"Rarely. She says I'm too anti-social."

"So stop being so shy all the time!"

Copernicus, my cat, began frantically scratching at the window. I assumed it was a bird or something dumb, but I look out the window and saw two strange boys unloading a car, and then I could hear someone opening the vacant apartment across the hall.

"I think someone's moving in across the hall."

"Go introduce yourself!"

"Why should I?"

"Because, for one, it's polite, and two, you could hit it off with them, and maybe gain a friend."

"I have to go, bye," I said quickly, hanging up the phone.

Why can't she just let me be anti-social instead of always telling me to go talk to people?

Deep down, I know she's right, and something good will come from this, so I began working up the courage to actually go over there.

My stomach began to feel like a tightening knot, but then I realized that I was just hungry, so I went to the convenience store across the street.

"Hi, I'm Catlyn, but you can call me Cat," I said on my way back into the building, deciding that I'm already out here, why not get it over it with now? "I live across the hall, I'm just dropping by to be neighborly and see if you'd like any help. Sorry about knocking your box over."

"It's okay, I got it before it fell. I'm Chris, by the way," he said, extending a slender hand to me as I shook it. "Are those crab sticks?"

"Yeah, they're my favorite snack. You want some?" I asked, really hoping he'd say no, because I don't want to share. I sure am a greedy bastard.

"Sure, I love them too," he said, opening door more and inviting me in.

"Where are you from?" I asked as I attempted to open the package. My fingers kept slipping off of the wet plastic.

"I lived in London before this place, but I'm originally from North Yorkshire," he said, taking the package out of my hands and easily tearing it open. "You?"

"I'm from Cleveland, the City of Rock 'n' Roll," I said, taking a bite of the rubbery food, my taste buds in complete euphoria. "Whenever bands do an American tour, they always come to Cleveland."

"You must've been to a lot of concerts then, huh?"

"Oh yeah! I would go to concerts even if I didn't know the band, just to go a concert."

"Well, what brings you to London, then?"

"I got a scholarship to UCL."

"University College London?" he said in disbelief, "that's one of the best colleges in the world!"

"I know! I was really excited when they offered me a full ride."

"What are you going for?"

"I'm majoring in analytical psychology, or, as some call, Jungian psychology, but minoring in some astrophysics and violin classes. Are you studying anything?"

"Nah, I graduated already."

"Oh, what's your degree?"

"Theater."

"I was considering going into theater, but I got scared at the last minute when applying and went with my third best plan of studying analytical psychology. "

"Third best?"

"I've always wanted to be a politician, the good kind, not the political, lying, unholy, cowardly killers, but a politician that will actually bring reform."

"Why didn't go you go into that?"

"No one would take a woman of color, who's also a heathen, seriously."

"Why'd you change from theater to analytical psychology?"

"I didn't think it'd be practical for me, and then I began to think about the probability of failing, and then everyone would be so disappointed in me, so I decided to go into something where I only use my left brain."

"Are you at least happy with your decision?"

"Of course! I've always been more academic than artsy. Acting was just a hobby of mine."

"Well, obviously you like music, since you play the violin."

"I've been playing since I was young, so I had to get some sort of academic training in it."

"Well that makes sense," he said as he took the last crab stick.

"So, do you need any help finishing up?" I asked as he stood up, extending his arm to me, and then helping me up.

"Nah, I think I got it all," he said, leading me back to the front door.

"Well, if you need anything, even if you just wanna steal my internet, I'm right across the hall."

"Okay, I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Bye, Cat."

"Bye, Chris," I said before he closed the door, and then I took two steps across the hall and opened my door.

Copernicus was sitting on the end table by the door, like he always does when I leave, his curly, long, black fur matted and tangled.

"What's wrong with yeh?" I asked him, getting out a brush made specifically for long haired cats. "I brush you nearly everyday. There's no need to get your fur this tangled!"

I laid down on the couch, after changing into pajamas, and tried to make my body straight as a board. Copernicus hopped up onto the cushion my legs weren't on, and then began to do that thing cats do before they walk on something. You know that thing. They tap their paw on the stop a few times to make sure it's not a trap. He eventually realized that I wasn't a trap, and then laid down on my chest. He began kneading my collarbones as I ran the brush through his fur. He slowly closed his eyes, and his kneading got more and more painful, but I worked through it. His unkempt fur was once again shiny and smooth. Eventually, we both drifted into a deep sleep.

I woke up from one of my nightly nightmares. It's one of those reoccurring dreams. This time, I'm being chased around the apartment my grandparent's lived in when I was a kid. I don't even understand it, but I always wake up terrified. Copernicus wasn't on my chest anymore, he was at his food bowl eating like the adorable fatty he is.

I got up and walked out the door, going to the fire escape in it's separate wing off of the hallway. It probably isn't safe to sit here, because what if there is a fire? Then, I'd be in the way to get to safety.

The cold mist wrapped around my tanned legs. I'm probably going to get frost bite or a cold since I'm in shorts and a t-shirts. But I don't mind, I've always liked the cold and the rain, but not in a constant pattern, like it is here. In Cleveland, it'd get pretty cold, since we're right by Lake Erie. It'd snow pretty badly in the winter, but the summer weather would be perfect.

I sat on that fire escape for a good twenty minutes before the door slowly opened.

"Hey," Chris said when he saw me. "What are you doing out here?"

"The cold air and rain helps clear my mind," I said, moving over so he could take a seat next to me. "What are _you _doing out here?"

"I can't sleep. New house and stuff, ya know," he said looking out at the skyline of the city.

We began talking in sleep-deprived minds, so it was really loopy and didn't make much sense.

"Have you ever heard of Carl Jung?" I said.

"No."

"He's the one that founded the things that I study. It deals with the unconscious. His theory is that there's this 'shadow' inside of us all. The shadow is everything in us that is unconscious, undeveloped, and withheld. This is dark aspect of our being. But, there is evidently good in our shadow. Since it's our unconscious, we don't know what that good is. Stepping through our shadow means we long for a deeper understanding of our unconscious. Who we are."

"That's actually really cool," he said.

"Ever heard of muscle memory?"

"Nope."

"It refers to listening to what is natural in our past, and digging deeper into why we did things or why things happened. Kind of like scabs."

"It's estimated and presumed that the next step in evolution, humans will have two extra chromosomes," I said.

"How many does that give us, then?"

"Forty six and two."


	2. H

**I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post this. I've been really tired lately, and I don't get home until nearly 6, and when I get home, I don't feel like typing this up. School's also been really distracting lately. I'm falling behind (can you even fall behind whilst at online school? i dunno), and I don't want to go to summer school. So, I'm posting this while at school. (Kind of hypocritical, huh?) because my dad took away my laptop because I didn't clean my laptop up to his standards. Okay. I'm done ranting. I'll have my laptop back in a week or so. **

_/dfasdf/set?id=62522563_

_"Restrictions of free thought and free speech is the most dangerous of all subversions. It is the one un-American act that could most easily defeat us."_  
-William O. Douglas

Chris

_Another two weeks? _I thought as I hung up the phone. That's how long I have to wait until the guy can come to hook up my internet.

_I could make a new video._

Nah, I don't feel like it right now.

I started walking around my new flat, trying to find secrets to it, like a secret closet, or a secret loose floor board I could hid stuff in. But, to no avail, I couldn't find anything too obvious.

_"Well, if you need anything, even if you just wanna steal my internet, I'm right across the hall." _I remembered Catlyn saying.

I felt somewhat bad for using Cat for her internet, but I'm sure she'll be okay. It's not like I'm just going to ignore her.

I grabbed my laptop and took a few steps across the hall. After locking my own door, I knocked on Catlyn's.

"Hey," she said through the cracked door. Her hair was curly again, but it looked more natural, and it looked "artificial" the other day.

"Hey, you said I could come over just to steal your internet, and I'm really bored. I can't get it hooked up for another two weeks."

"Awe, that sucks, but you can steal my internet," she said, opening the door all the way to let me in.

Her flap had the exact same layout as mine, except mirrored. Her's was kind of messy, but not like she's too lazy to clean up, more like she's just really disorganized.

"Don't mind the mess. I have trouble keeping my mind organized, let alone my things."

"It's fine, it's not that bad, really. I've seen a _lot _worse," I said as she led me to her sofa and helped me set up my laptop, while her laptop's music was still playing.

_"We believe in freedom, justice, security, but they're only pure when they're applied universally. So, certainly if I rage against the machine, my aim was only to clean the germs out of the circuitry. Heard you need putting fear inside your heart, make you burn Qu'rans and tell me not to build a mosque. Me, my wife and babies we ain't never made jihad, we just want to touch our heads to the floor and talk to God, ask him to remove every blemish from my heart. The greatest threat of harm doesn't come from any bomb. The moment you refuse the human rights of just a few, what happens when that few includes you? Civil war," _the rapper said.

"What are you listening to?" I asked.

"Immortal Technique, with a cameo from Brother Ali, Chuck D, and Killer Mike. That part was by Brother Ali. Technique's the one of the strongest influences that got me inspired in politics. ."

"How is that?"

"Nearly all of his songs are about the truth about the American government, the truth about the September eleventh conspiracy theory, the shit that does down in Latino America, and gangs."

We began taking about music for a good half-hour. We didn't have much of a similar taste. She likes mostly rock, and then there's the political rappers she loves, and I'm more into electronica and such.

"_Hell is not a place you go if you're not a Christian, it's the failure of your life's greatest ambitions," _Immortal Technique said.

That is probably the most truest thing I've ever heard.

I found out she was in a band, but she told me they such since none of them know how to write songs, so in all of their gigs, they only play covers.

After a while, we drifted out of conversation. I began to look around at the decorations she had displayed around her house.

She had a large poster with this angry-looking man. He kind of resembled Stalin. Or perhaps a Stalin and Hitler love child. He had multiple wrinkles on his face, most likely from it being all scrunched up in an angry manner. Underneath, there was "Big Brother is watching" written in big, capital letters.

There was also this flag displayed. I knew it was for a band called Rammstein. I only know this because Dan likes them and has showed me their logo.

There was an Immortal Technique, with, who I am assuming is him, an M-16 (again, I'm assuming. His clothes are kind of dark and it blends in with the gun. I also only know it's Immortal Technique because it has his name written on it up in the left corner. There was also "The Martyr" on it.

The thing that caught my attention the most was the American flag hung upside down with "I won't trade humanity for patriotism" written on the white stripes.

I've heard two things about one's flag being hung upside down. The first is, treason, meaning that means they're being disrespectful to their country. Unless that's burning one's own flag. The other thing I've heard is a universal sign for distress (either for oneself or for one's country.). From what I've heard, America is in an extremely bad place right now. I mean, they're fighting two wars at the moment, and I'm sure they're still healing from September eleventh, which was only a mere eleven years ago.

"Why are you still in your pajamas?" I asked, realizing she was in shorts and a tank top, which is weird since it's mind afternoon.

"I don't have anything to do until about 4 o'clock, so I see no point in getting dressed until then."

"No classes or work?"

"Nope."

Catlyn

I'm really embarrassed right now. My house is a mess, and I'm a mess, too.

But, obviously, Chris doesn't care, since he's still here.

"Why are you still in your pajamas?" he asked, realizing my choice of attire today.

"I don't have anything to do until about 4 o'clock, so I see no point in getting dressed until then." I replied.

"No classes or work?"

"Nope."

He just kind of make a noise that sounded kind of like _humf_ and nodded his head.

"The good thing about being my friend is that you can come in your pajamas and I won't judge you because I will also be in my pajamas," I said. I really hope he considers us friends, because, if we weren't, this will be awkward for the both of us.

"You consider us friends?" he asked.

"Yeah. You're over here talking to be and being nice and not making fun of me, yet, so I consider us friends, or, at least, acquaintances."

After that, we had spontaneous conversation that only lasted about twenty minutes, and then we'd be silent for the same amount of time.

As the clock struck 3:30, I began to put my laptop away and wrap everything I was doing on the internet.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go, and I don't think it'd be safe to leave you here alone. Nothing personal."

"Oh, okay," he said, sounding kind of hurt. "I understand, there's lots of weirdos out there. Can never be too careful. Where are you going, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Gymnastics practice. I go at least three days a week for a few hours. You can come if you'd like."

"They'd allow that?"

"The let parents and siblings watch, so we can just convince them you're my brother."

"Because they'd totally believe that, with our skin tones," he said sarcastically.

He was right. He's pretty white, and I look like a piece of bread that was left to heat in the toaster too long. I have these dark ol' eyebrows, which means it's obvious my hair is naturally black, and he has light brown hair. Even our eyes are different. His are a nice hazel, and mine are just brown. Plus, isn't height hereditary? If it is, no one will believe it since I'm quite small, and he's quite tall.

"You're my half-brother for today."


	3. Jambi

**I also just realized that I'm probably switching between present and past tense, so I apologize if that irritates you.**

_dfadsf/set?id=63797899_

_An oppressed people are authorized whenever they can to rise and break their fetters._

**-**Henry Clay

Chris

While she changed into the clothes she wears for gymnastics, I went over to my flat to put my laptop back. After less than five minutes, there she was, knocking on my door.

"I thought gymnasts were, like, a bunch of twelve-year-old girls," I said as we walked out of the building and began walking in the direction of the gym. She started laughing, but had a sarcastic sad look on her face.

"Not all of us! There _are _a lot of prepubescent girls there, but there's a bunch of girls there that are _years_ older than I am!" she said.

"What kind of stuff do you do while you're out there?" I asked.

"Well, there's lots of different types of gymnastics. I do rhythmic gymnastics."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Well, a rhythmic gymnast is just for girls, on a competitive level, and involves lots of contortion, and either a ball, a rope, a club, or a hoop, but sometimes it's just a floor routine."

"So, you must be pretty flexible, if you focus on rhythmic gymnastics, then."

"Oh yeah. I can do loads of things people probably shouldn't be able to do."

"Like what? Put your feet behind your head and walk around on your hands?"

"Well, sometimes, mostly I put my butt on my head and swing around a hula hoop. No biggie."

"Are you one of those people that forces themselves to be a contortionist, or is it natural?"

"I was born this way. I started out as ballerina but then one of my friends at school took me to one of her practices and it just appealed to me more."

"You must have really good hide 'n' seek spots then," I joked.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, we finally made it to her gym.

"Who is this?' said a thin woman, look looks like she's in her early 30's.

"My brother," Cat said quickly.

"Really? You two couldn't look more alike," she said, sarcastically.

"Well, he's my half brother."

"Nice try, Cat. I know you don't have a brother. If he's your friend, fine, but don't lie to me," the lady said, walking away.

"That's my coach, Stacy," Cat said as we made it inside the building, and she began to take her clothes off, leaving her in nothing but her tank top and shorts. "Will you watch my stuff?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, taking her bag full of her clothes.

"I'll be right over there," she said, pointing to the corner of the room.

"Okay," I said as I took a seat while she ran down the stairs that lead to the actual gym and started stretching.

"Hey," said another girl, throwing her dark brown hair over her shoulder. She was small, and thin (like most of the girls here). "I'm Contessa, one of Cat's friends."

"Oh, hi. I'm Chris," I said, shaking her extended hand.

"How do you know Cat?"

"I live across the hall from her. You?"

"My daddy owns your guys' building."

"Oh, well then," I said, unsure of what to say.

"Well, that's just why she lives there. We met at uni, then I found out she trains here, just like my little sister."

"I see," I said, trying not to be rude.

"She's the one in the blue tank top," she said, pointing to her sister. "Catlyn is really nice and generous, isn't she?"

"Yeah," I stated simply.

After that, Contessa went on about the volunteer work Catlyn does, and then she stopped talking to me, only to initiate small talk when someone did something neat.

After about five minutes of doing the splits with both legs between two chairs, they began doing hand stands and then putting their feet behind their head, among other things I didn't think were humanly possible. The girls there were so synchronized in what they were doing.

"I saw you were talking to Contessa," Cat said after practice while she put her clothes back on.

"Well, _she _was talking, I really wasn't."

"Yeah, she has a habit of doing that."

"She says her dad owns the building."

"Yeah, that's why I got this place; I was living in a place where 'bitch' was spray painted on the side of the building, and where there were home invasions every week, and then I met her, she told me her dad owns the building, and then convinced him to let me move in for a reduced price."

"Well, that was nice of her," I said.

"Yeah, she is, most of the time."

"Most of the time?"

"She can be really mean sometimes, if she's in one of _those_ moods. You feel me?"

It took a little bit longer to get back to our building, since this time, we had to walk uphill. But, alas, we finally made it back, although, we were cold and wet.

"Well, I'm gonna get inside, and try to avoid hypothermia," she said as we stood in front of our own doors.

"Same," I said. "See you around. Maybe I'll come back later for your internet!"

Catlyn

Nearly every single muscle in my body ached with an agonizing pain. I need to remind myself to stretch before I even start to officially stretch. A pre-stretch stretch.

After Chris and I parted, I went straight to the bathroom and showered. Not just any shower, mind you, a skin-boiling hot shower, in hopes that it would relax my muscles. It didn't, it just turned my skin red.

"Hey, Copernicus," I said, stroking his long, silky fur. "Can _you_ give me a massage?"

He just stared at me, with that stupid look cats always have in their eyes. He jumped up on my legs, which furthered the pain, and started kneading them with his paws. This, surprising, made my leg muscles feel better. Now only if he could make me some green tea.

"Hey, it's me," I heard through the door after hearing a few swift knocks. I could tell it was Chris. I just yelled for him to come in, since I'm too tired to get up.

"Before you sit, can you make me some green tea, please?" I asked, giving him the puppy dog eyes.

"I guess!" he sighed, walking into the kitchen as I told him where everything was and how to make it.

As I took the first sip (which, by far is the best tea I've ever drank), I could feel my muscles finally begin to relax.

"No offense, but if you've been training your whole life in gymnastics, why aren't you a higher level?" he asked almost as soon as he sat down.

"Well, one day, a few years ago, I didn't stretch well enough, and then I forced flexibility, and I tore my Petit Adducteur, and had to be in physical therapy for a few months, and that set me back a level or two. Had I not torn that muscle, I'd be an elite-level gymnast."

"That sounds a bit painful," he said.

"Oh, yes. Quite painful. But, I learned my lesson that time."

Without missing a beat, my home phone began to rang, but, as I was before, I'm too tired to get up and answer it.

"Aren't you gonna get that?"

"No, I don't _feel_ like it."

"Oh," he said, giving me a weird look, as the voicemail greeting began to play.

"_Hey, Kate-lynn, it's Melissa from violin. Do you remember me? Well, I was just wondering if you could tell me what pages we were supposed to practice. Okay, thanks. Bye," _said the less-than-familiar voice. How the fuck did she eve get my home phone number?

"She called you Katelyn," Chris said. "Do they really not know your name?"

"Nobody knows how to pronounce it when they read it. I honestly think my parents hated me, since they gave me this name. My sister got a perfectly normal name, which is easy to pronounce, while I got stuck with _Catlyn._ When my parents came to America, they say they saw the name Katelyn, but spelled K-A-T-L-Y-N, and assumed it was pronounced like my name, until she corrected them, and they say that they liked it, so I got stuck with it."

"Is your sister's name 'Doglyn' or something?"he said, laughing.

"Oh god, I wish. That's what I should call her next time I talk to her."

We laughed like this for the next few hours, and until the early hours of the morning.

"It's getting late, I don't want to keep you up since you have school in the morning," he said, beginning to pack his stuff up.

"Nah, it's cool. I usually stay up this late anyways, but I am getting tired."

"Yeah, me too. I should probably get to bed."

"Okay, you should come over tomorrow after practice and we'll play some games or something. If you want."

"Sure, I'd like that," he said, giving a nice smirk.

"Well, goodnight," I said, as he left, and I shut and locked the door behind him.


	4. Third Eye

_It is not the insurrections of ignorance that are dangerous, but the revolts of intelligence._

-James Russell Lowell

/lskf/set?id=67672270

Chris

"Hey, do you guys wanna go to the cinema?" I asked as Dan answered his phone. As I suspected, he agreed, and he and Phil were at my flat in no time.

"You ready to go?" Phil asked as I opened the door.

"Yeah, just let me get my shoes," I said leading them inside and putting my shoes on.

As we stepped outside my flat, I saw Catlyn running up the stairs, talking on her phone. She looks like she's been for a jog, being that she has a shiny layer of sweat across her skin, her hair is in a ponytail, and her chest is still rapidly rising and falling at a steady rate.

"_Hola_," she said softly so the person on the other end couldn't hear, she then gave me a cute smile, started to unlock her door, and then walked in.

"Hey," I said as I began to lock my own. When I made sure it was, Dan, Phil, and I started our voyage to the cinema. After the film was over, we decided to go and get something to eat.

"So," Dan said, "who was that across the hall?"

"Catlyn? She's the girl that I've been telling you about."

"You didn't mention that she lived across the hall from you," Phil said.

"I didn't think it was that important."

"Well, what's the deal between you two?" Dan asked.

"What do you mean?" I said, really hoping he wasn't going where I think he was.

"Do you like her?" he said, realizing I was going to play dumb.

Do I like her? I don't even know. Sure, she's cute and funny and sweet and smart and a whole bunch of other things, but we're just friends. That's all we are. Friends. And I'm okay with that. Really. We're only friends.

"As a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't think you can even _really '_like' somebody you've only known for two months."

They both just kind of gave me a weird look, probably because they think I'm lying (and I'm sure I'm lying to myself), and then we went on with our conversations, and then we went to our own homes.

As I was walking up the stairs to my flat, I saw Contessa walking out of Catlyn's flat. She noticed me almost as soon as she opened the door. I gave her a friendly smile, but she gave me some weird wink. I noticed a black blob sneak out between the crack in the door. She apparently didn't close it all the way. I instantly recognized the cat as Copernicus, Catlyn's cat, and quickly picked him up and walked over to her door, and knocked on it (but, since it was already cracked, it just flew open).

"Jesus Christ!" she said, a big text book in her hand, as if she was going to throw it. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I'm sorry. Contessa didn't close the door all the way, so your cat got out, so I'm returning him," I said, putting him down.

"Do-do you want to stay for a bit?" she asked, kind of hesitantly.

"Sure."

Catlyn

I can't even leave my house to go for a jog without being scared something's going to happen. Every corner I turn, I'm scared there will be somebody there, just waiting for me. I just hate everything sometimes.

"_Hola,"_ I said to Chris as he was leaving his apartment with his two friends, and then giving him a quick smile.

"Hey," he said back as I entered my apartment and quickly locked the doors behind me.

"_Gato, _I accidentally got two tickets. You can bring one of your _amigos_ this time!" my father said as I stepped through the threshold. I never really understood why he still speaks Spanglish. He's fluent in both.

"Okay, Papa, I'll ask some of my friends. Who's all gonna be there?"

"Luis, and his new girl, your sister, and Yasmeen. I think that's it, _Gato._"

"Sounds like it's going to be fun. I gotta go, Papa. _Mucho gracias. Hasta luego!"_

An hour later, Contessa showed up.

Contessa can be one of the most annoying people in the world sometimes. I can feel it in my gut that she's only friends with me for a) someone to whine about her problems to, b) someone that will put up with that, and c) to be nice. She literally just came to my apartment to ask me about Chris. I just started making up a whole bunch of stuff until she left.

"Jesus Christ!" I shouted as my door flew open, with Chris, looking kind of confused, and Copernicus in it. I picked up the nearest book just in case I needed to clock anyone with it.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I'm sorry. Contessa didn't close the door all the way, so your cat got out, so I'm returning him," he said, putting him down."

"Do-do you want to stay for a bit?" I asked.

"Sure," he said, closing the door, and then taking a seat in the spot he usually does.

"Do you know what Day of the Dead is?" I asked him.

"I've heard of it, but no."

"It's a traditional Native American holiday celebrated in Latino American cultures to commemorate the dead."

"Oh, so you're Hispanic then?"

"Yes, I'm Cuban, Mexican, Ecuadorian, Bolivian, and Peruvian. My ancestors are mostly indigenous tribes. I think I only have, like, five European ancestors in my entire blood line."

"Well, that explains why you're so dark."

"_Dia de los Muertos _is actually coming up in a few weeks. November first, to be exact."

"I'll be sure to wish you a happy Day of the Dead, then."

"I'm actually going back to Cleveland that day. Would you like to come with me?" I asked, bracing myself for the worst.

"Yeah, I'd love to. I don't think I'm doing anything around that day. When are you planning on leaving?"

"I think my dad said the plane tickets were for a landing time of Halloween morning, and departure time of the night of the second. So we'd be leaving early morning on Halloween, and we'd arrive back on early morning of the third."

"Okay, I look forward to it," he said.

I didn't even actually expect him to say yes. I thought he'd make up an excuse. I guess I was wrong.


	5. Hush

_We built your fort. We will not have it used against us._

**-John Wayne Allegheny Uprising**

_/cvbnm/set?id=6883869__7_

Chris

"_Adelante_!" Cat said, ushering me through the doors of the airport.

It's too early for this! I barely got any sleep. I'm surprised I even remembered my bag. Cat kept rushing me to make sure we weren't going to miss our flight. We got there nearly an hour and a half early.

"What if the time printed on the tickets was wrong?" she had said.

After a bit, our plane came (on time), we boarded, and then we both fell asleep. The duration of the trip was about seven and a half hours long, but I as only awake for about three hours.

"We're here!" she practically shouted as the plane was landing. I could tell from her body language that she really wanted to go find her family.

As soon as we were allowed to depart the plane, Cat kept telling me to hurry up. Well, actually, she said "_apurate"_ over and over again, which means hurry up, she says.

After we left the boarding area and everything, I thought we were going to be greeted by the outside, but, instead, we entered a huge shopping centre.

"Is your dad, or mom, or sister here to pick us up?" I asked as she led me out of the building.

"No, I told him we'd come to them," she said as we walked down the busy street.

There was still froth and dew on the windows of the buildings and cars we passed. We could see our breath as we talked, and even breathed.

"Are you sure we're going the right way? This map says we're going deeper into the city," I said, checking my phone.

"I know where we're going, okay?" she said, in a slightly irritated voice.

After a while of walking further and further to the heart of the city, we eventually came to a high-rise building, which looks like flats, judging by the balconies. She opened the door, and then led me to the lift and pressed the button next to the 33.

"When you said you lived in Cleveland, I thought you meant a suburb," I said.

"I grew up in cities. I think we only lived in one house in the suburbs, but my dad moved us out like two months later because he missed the traffic, and being able to walk out of the building and see a whole bunch of restaurants."

When the doors opened on our floor, there was a girl who looked exactly like Cat, except with black hair, and another girl with one of those Muslim hijabs. I don't think it's a hijab though, since this one is a bit looser than the ones I've seen around at home. Maybe she's a bit more liberal than the Muslims in the UK.

"Dad told us to wait here for you," Catlyn's twin said. "Who's this?"

Her sister looked exactly like her, except Catlyn was a lot thinner, where as her sister had more of a womanly shape, their hair colour was different, Catlyn was a bit paler, and her sister was slightly taller than Catlyn.

"Hi, I'm Chris," I said, extending my hand to her.

"I'm Francisca, but I go by Frankie," she said, shaking my hand in return.

"I'm Yasmeen," the other girl said. Remember what one of my friends had told me in school, I didn't extend my hand to her, because it's sinful in the Muslim culture. She had an accent, but I can't tell where she's from.

When we reached her flat, Catlyn introduced me to her dad, Manuel, cousin, Luis, and his girlfriend, Paris. I was going to ask where her mum was, but I felt it best not to bring it up.

Her dad is much darker than Catlyn and Frankie are. He's quite shorter than I am, as well as her cousin, who only slightly resembles Catlyn's family. They're both probably about five to seven inches shorter than I am.

"I have a surprise for you guys," Catlyn's dad said as we were preparing lunch. Now that I hear her dad's accent, I can hear a little trace of it in Catlyn's voice.

"What is it?" Frankie asked, rolling some shredded chicken into a tortilla."Well, if I told you now, _mija, _it wouldn't be a surprise!"

After we were starting to set up the table, there was a knock on the door.

"My surprise must be here!" her dad said, running over to the door.

When he opened it, a man that looked an awful lot like her dad, except shorter and fatter, stood in the door way. "You're Uncle Guillermo!"

I looked over at Catlyn, and her face did not look happy.

Catlyn

"My surprise must be here!" my dad said as I was cutting up tomatoes. "Your Uncle Guillermo!"

Narrowly missing my finger with the knife, I went over to Frankie.

"Did you know about this?" I whispered in Spanish so Chris or Yasmeen couldn't understand.

"I swear I didn't! If I had, I obviously would've talked dad out of it."

"Dad, can we talk to you?" I asked.

"Sure, _que tal?"_

"Is Guillermo staying with us?"

"_Si, _I thought him, Luis, and Paris could take the living room."

"Does he have to stay?" Frankie asked. "I mean, we have a pretty small living room for three people to try to sleep in."

"Yeah, Dad. Why don't we get him a room at the Comfort Inn? It isn't too far from here, and it's not too pricey."

"Yeah, you girls are right. I'll go tell him," he said, giving us a weird look, and then leaving the room.

"Have you told Chris yet?" Frankie asked.

"No, why would I? We're just friends," I said, uneasily.

"Really?" she asked in disbelief.

"Have you told Yasmeen?" I said, quickly changing the subject.

"Yeah, but I didn't tell her about you. I felt like it'd be a violation of your privacy."

"Thanks, but you can tell her if you ever get the chance."

"I give you permission to do the same," she said, as we gave each other a comforting hug. "I'm coming out today."

"That's really great! I'm proud of you. How are you planning on doing it?" I said as she told me her plan.

"I also proposed.""Really?" I said, a huge smile spreading across my face.

"I'll tell you how I did it when we get in there."

"Is everything okay?" Chris asked. I assured him everything was, and then we helped set up the table with taquitos, tamales, and other Latino foods.

"So, Catlyn, are you voting this year?" Paris asked.

"No. Why would I? Both candidates are really sketchy, plus, I don't live here."

"Why don't you like Obama? I thought you were a democrat," Luis asked.

"He's done some pretty shitty things over the past four years, plus, I really hate his policy on Israel."

"I do too. I don't understand why he doesn't support them," Paris said.

"I don't know about you, but promising them over thirty billion dollars over the next decade sounds like support to me," Frankie said. "Why should we support terrorists anyway?"

"Terrorists?! Gaza Bombed the Israelis! It's not Israel that's terrorists."

"Paris, I'm from Palestine, I was born in Ramallah, and I lived there until I was sixteen," Yasmeen said, "The Israelis have been bombing and terrorizing Palestine for years, and it got worse when the second intifada began in 2001. They bomb our schools, our mosques, and even hospitals. They blocked a ship from the UN that was full of food for us. The soldiers raided my home, and many other's, and took everything. Yet, they wonder why we're going to their cities and blowing ourselves up. When I was younger, they killed my father. My mother said he was sick, and the medicine in his hand looked like a weapon, so they shot him. I don't even remember him, that's how young I was. Then, they took my brother and uncle to prison. No due process, no court trial, nothing. They let my brother out after three years, but he's different. I know they tortured him, but I don't know how. As for my uncle, he was never returned. What they're doing now is worse than what they did in the past. Why should we listen to the Israelis, they never, ever listen to us. One of my little sisters was shot while in class. I've seen them throw stones at farmers in fields. We throw rocks at them and their tanks, but they shoot bullets, and you have the nerve to call _us_ the terrorists? We're not even safe when we pray! This isn't about opinions, this is facts. I try my hardest to not hate the Israelis, but if my people came to your house and bombed you and tortured your family, you'd hate my people too." I could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. "How many more lives have to be lost because of religious hate?"

"Not only are they terrorists, but they're pirates. They illicitly boarded a ship in international waters," Frankie said.

"You can't win against a population," I began, "that looks down the barrel of a gun, and sees paradise. It's not just a war, it's genocide."

After that, Paris shut up, and we ate our foot in near silence, only to initiate small talk.

"I was on the internet the other day," Frankie said, "and there's this thing going around where people say four words they would tell their fourteen-year-old self. Cat, you go first."

Jesus Christ, she's a terrible actor.

"Don't hurt the pigs," I said, counting the words on my fingers. Everyone but Chris, Paris, and Guillermo laughed. "Frankie's turn."

She started counting on her fingers, and then a few seconds later, she said "Face it, you're gay."

"That's okay. I still love you just the same," my dad said after a minute. Luis seconded that. Guillermo, however, didn't. He actually looked quite angry.

"Yasmeen and I gave been dating since we were seventeen. I even proposed last month," she said, showing everyone the gorgeous ring. She then began telling us how she took Yasmeen to her favorite restaurant, and then just came out with it and asked her. Obviously, she said yes.

**I'm not going to post again until I have at least one chapter written for every story I have. If I get it written, I'll write the next parts to this part of the story (there will probably 2 more parts for this part) and post it. **


	6. Vicarious

**Trigger warning towards the end.**

_The sin of silence when they should protest makes cowards of men._

**-****Abraham Lincoln**

Chris

"What did you mean?" I asked after everyone discussed Frankie's lesbianism.

"_Don't hurt the pigs_?" Cat inquired. "I punched a cop when I was a teenager. There's a bit more to it than just that. Maybe I'll walk you through the whole story later."

"Weren't you in there for, like, a year?" Luis asked.

"No, I was supposed to be in there for six months, but they let me out after five for good behavior."

It's hard to imagine Cat in prison. I can't even begin to think of her in one of those orange jumpsuits. Plus, she seems like the type of person that would get beat up because she has quite the attitude.

"Why would you punch a police officer?" I asked.

"Long story short, a cop called me a spic, I got mad, so I punched him after saying 'fuck you, pig'."

After dinner, Catlyn's dad and her uncle went to get a couple of table for tomorrow from their storage unit in the basement while Catlyn, Frankie, Yasmeen, and I started moving furniture around to fit the tables. Paris went to get some orange marigolds, or _flores de los muertos,_ as they called it, and Luis brought up the box of decorations.

"Do you have anyone you want to commemorate?" Catlyn's dad asked me. I took my head no, and told him it's not part of my culture, so it wouldn't be right. He told me Yasmeen's commemorating her family members, so they don't really care if it's not part of my culture.

There were five framed photos perched on the tables. One looked like a younger version of Yasmeen, and the one next to it looked like a male older version of her, and various other pictures next to it looked like they'd be part of her family. The third main picture didn't look like she'd be related to anyone here. She's dark like Catlyn's dad, but perhaps she's just a departed friend. The fourth picture was a girl who looked an awful lot like Luis, with a few resemblances of his dad. The photo that caught my attention the most was the picture of the woman who was a spitting image of Catlyn and Frankie. The women in the picture had the same skin as Cat, same eye shape, same lips. It would make sense as to why Cat's mum isn't here.

"I was seventeen," Cat said coming up behind me after everyone went back to the kitchen to clean up.

"What happened?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"My mom was diagnosed with kidney cancer, and it had spread to both of her kidneys. No one in our family had the same blood type as her. She had type O, while Frankie and I have type A, and my dad has AB, which aren't compatible with blood type O. Both of her parents were O, but since they still lived in Cuba, she had no way of getting their kidneys from them, and the donation list was way too long. Both of her kidneys shut down before anyone could donate to her."

"I'm so sorry," I said pulling her into a hug.

"It's okay. It's been years. I've come to terms with it," she said as I looked at, who am I am assuming is, Luis's sister, secretly hoping she'll tell me the story. "That's Luis's sister, Marcela. When she was thirteen, almost fourteen, she was walking home from school, and she was, for lack of a less awful word, assaulted. Two months later, she found out she was pregnant. Since they lived in Mississippi at the time, where abortions are widely unavailable, she she induced it herself, and got a terrible infection." I gave her another sympathy hug and awkwardly asked about the last girl. "Her name's Rosa. She was beaten to death and then shot by a group of Skinheads for being Latina. The gunshot didn't kill her immediately, she was taken to the hospital first, and there she told us it was a racially-motivated crime. Unfortunately, her attackers were never found. I don't think the police really cared. They probably wrote it off as _just _another hate crime."

Afterwards, we all helped decorate the altars with things each person liked while they were alive, and then they set out pillows and blankets. They told me this was because the journey from the afterlife is tiring and the spirits needed to rest. We then set out _oferenda _food, which apparently is believed in Latino American cultures that the spirits will eat the "spiritual essence" of the food. It was pretty late by the time we were finished setting up the altars. Cat told me everything else was going to be done tomorrow, and that the spirits had to get here before we could do anything else.

Catlyn

"We're going to have to share a bad. Is that okay?" I asked Chris as we were about to make our sleeping arrangements.

"Yeah, that's fine," he said as we went to the room Frankie and I used to share.

"Bottom bunk!" Frankie called out as she ran over to the bed and jumped onto it and engulfed herself in the blanket while Yasmeen did the same.

"Dammit," I muttered under my breath. She always gets the bottom bunk! After a bit, my dad came in with an extra pillow for me.

"Watch those hands, boy," he said sternly.

"Ye-yes, sir," Chris said.

Eventually, we all fell aslep, and, as usual, I had one of my nightmares. I think Chris could tell since he asked me why I move around so much at night. On the bright side, they've been occurring less often.

_oijg/set?id=75856469_

Almost as soon as we finished breakfast, Frankie and I started stretching in the bedroom. Since she's a ballerina, she does almost the same stretching routines, except mine last longer. My coach told me If I don't stretch over this little break, I'll be stiff as a board when I come back. After everyone was fully awake, we began the _Dia de los Muertos _festivities. Frankie, Luis, and I painted each other's face, but everyone else refused our offer.

_"Gato,_ get the food," my dad ordered as we were about to start. I set out a plate of all the deceased's favorite food. It was almost dinner time when we began to sit around and tell stories about the deceased.

Contrary to the popular belief, _Dia de los Muertos_ isn't a scary holiday or Mexican Halloween. First of all, Halloween is the day before Day of the dead. Secondly, Mexico isn't the only country that celebrates this holiday. Most of Latino America celebrates it. And, third of all, the holidays aren't even remotely the same in means of celebration and what they're about.

After the special dinner, we sent Paris out to get some more marigolds, and then we went to the cemetery. When we got there, I found Rosa's headstone first. I did as tradition says and cleaned all of the dust and dirt off of the stone. After placing her picture and some of the stuff I knew she was interested in, I moved onto my mother's grave.

When she died, I was at her bedside, along with Frankie and my dad. She asked us why there were a bunch of people standing around us. Confused, my dad told her it was only the three of us. She pressed on about how there were about twenty people she didn't recognize around her. Upon later research, I found that it's a quite common phenomenon among people on their deathbed. That's when I realized I wouldn't give up on God, no matter how much I hated him at that moment. Though, I don't believe in a Heaven or Hell. I basically created my own religion. It's near the same as Catholicism (the religion I was raised with), except a bit more liberal (i.e. supporting gay rights, women's rights, women are allowed to interact with people whilst on her period, ect.) and I believe in reincarnation.

After about a half an hour, everyone began to head back to the apartment. I stayed behind, and since Chris doesn't know anyone, he stayed with me. We sat in silence in front of my mother's grave for an additional ten minutes. I'm trying really hard not to cry right now. So I wouldn't look stupid when the paint runs, I took an alcohol wipe I took from a restaurant and took the face paint off. All the memories of her came flooding back. I remembered her warm and contagious laugh that could brighten anyone's day, and our days back in Cuba when I'd stand on her feet and she'd dance around our tiny kitchen. The memory of her crying on my first day of high school played back in my head. Then I pictured her telling us she has cancer, and her sitting by our side while we got blood tests to see if we're matches. I remembered her crying when she was told none of us are a match. She cried even harder when she was told how long she'd have to wait until they could match her with a donor. The next thing I pictured was her lying in the hospital bed, crying in agony as her kidneys shut down.

The next thing I know, Chris is holding me while I cry on his shoulder. He assured me everything's going to be okay. I made him a sweater of my tears and snot for another five minutes and then we went to a park by the lake, which isn't too far from the cemetery. I told him how my mom gave me my watch a year and a half before she passed just because I did good at a violin concert, even though I didn't want to go, and how the necklace shaped like a cat was originally for her for their anniversary, but my dad never had a chance to give it to her so he gave it to me.

"I probably look terrible right now," I admitted. It's true. I'm an ugly crier. My face gets all puffy, and scrunches up, and then these fat tears roll down my face, and sometimes gets in my mouth, and then my nose turns into Angel Falls.

"It's going to be okay," Chris assured me once again, wiping another tear away. We stared into each others eyes for a few seconds, and the, he kissed me. And I kissed him back. And it wasn't like any other other kisses I've had. This one felt..._real._

"I was assaulted," I blurted out. He just gave an incoherent "what" and then gave me a confused look. I'm mentally kicking myself for even saying anything now. "Four times."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked awkwardly. I can tell he's never been put in a situation like this.

"My Uncle Guillermo molested Frankie and I for years when we were back in Cuba."

"Does your dad know about this?"

"No. Frankie and I don't want to hurt him. Luis knows, and he just kind of cut off all ties with Guillermo." He gave me yet another sympathetic hug. "And then, at my first job, one of the other guys that worked there did it while the only other female employee held me. I've tried to tell people about that, but no one believes because 'girls can't be instigators'."

"Do people really think that?"

"It's radical feminist logic. Only girls can be victims, only men can be victimizers...

"And when I was in juvi, my cellmate would do the same thing to me at night. People think only men have to worry about prison rape, but girls do too. We have to worry about our cell mates _and _the C.O.'s. I knew quite a few women from my prison days who had experienced inappropriate touching from the C.O.'s. She got out about a month and a half into my sentence, and then she was replaced by this domestic abuse victim who stabbed her boyfriend, who survived."

"What about this most recent time?" he asked carefully. I let a few more tears escape before continuing.

"I was paired up with these two guys for a project for one of my classes. They roughed me up so bad that by the time they were done, I had a broken nose, a burst gall bladder and squished spleen. Lucky for me, those are both organs I can live without. I reported it, but only because it was violent. I don't think I would've done anything legally had it not been violent. It doesn't matter either way, the police aren't doing anything about it."

"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked pulling into _yet_ another hug and brushing my hair with his fingers. "I mean, I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me, but why now?"

"So that way you know what you're getting yourself into."


	7. Eulogy

**READ THIS!**

**In the second paragraph, right after it switches to Cat's perspective, there's a spoiler alert for the final episodes of Make it or Break it. There's also a decent amount Spanish in this one, but it isn't vital to the story to translate it, so you don't _need_ to. The huge chunk of text is prayers, so you could probably just skip over it. (And once again, I'm sorry about taking a century to post this. It took me forever to get the translation right. It ended with me finally asking someone. With that being said, a big thank you to Jesse from reclaimingthelatinatag and fyeahcuba from tumblr for helping me out! It _is _Cuban Spanish, so it might translate over funny with translators, since they usually do "true" Spanish.)**

_Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable._  
John F. Kennedy

I tried to wrap my head around what Cat had just told me. I wanted to help her, I just didn't know what to do or what to say. I hated everything at that moment. I hated her stupid uncle, I hated that stupid girl, I hated her stupid cell mate, and I hated the stupid boys that put her in the hospital. I clenched my teeth and hugged myself. I began to dig my nails into my arms to try and tame my anger and distress and the plethora of emotions I was feeling. I didn't want to overwhelm her and make her regret telling me, because I'm glad she trusts me enough to be able to disclose such a big part of her life to me.

"Wait... you have classes with them?" I asked as soon as I was sure my voice wouldn't give. She nodded.

"Why do you think I don't go to classes in the morning on schedule? It may be part laziness, but it's because _they're_there. They always try to sit next to me and try to touch me. I got some friends in that class though, so they usually try to keep them away."

"Who else knows what happened?"

"Just you. I told Contessa and my friends from class that they just broke in and took some stuff, which they did. My dad and Frankie don't know anything. I'm thinking about going to the media with it. Maybe once people know the police are trying to brush it under the rug, the pigs will actually do something about it. Kind of like what happened in Steubenville and Rehtaeh Parsons," she said.

We sat in silence on that bench for ten minutes. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to my body. Cat rested her head against my chest so she could hear my heartbeat. I noticed that she was starting to doze off, so I shook her a little bit.

"Do you want to go to Tower City?" she asked as she lifted her head up. I just gave her a weird look. "It's the shopping center the airport is in. Maybe we could go see a movie. If we go now, we could even get something to eat. I'm still hungry."

"You just ate, like, ten plates of tamales. How could you still be hungry?" I asked as she nuzzled her head further into my chest

"I did _not_ have ten plates of tamales! I had one tamale, one taco, half a quesadilla, some falafel, and some hummus with pita bread. That's not a lot of food," she said as we got up off the bench and began walking towards her flat to get some money.

"Fair enough," I said pulling her back onto the pavement since she was about to walk in front of an oncoming car. "What were you thinking for second dinner?"

After naming off a bunch of places to eat at, while the other shot it down, we decided on sushi. She told me she's allergic to all kinds of seafood, but she knows of a place for pregnant women, so they use imitation fish. She also said pregnant women get free ice cream and she's willing to abuse the system just for free ice cream.

"You can be my baby daddy," she said, puffing her stomach out and arching her back to make it look like she's in the second trimester of pregnancy. She stopped for a second as we passed the cemetery. "Do mind if we go in for a minute? I didn't really get to say goodbye to _mi mamá_. We just kind of walked off."

"Sure," I said as I pushed the dismal black gates open.

More people had congregated in the cemetery by now. I could see crying children, weeping women, and men trying to stay strong and keep a brave face. The entire cemetery was illuminated with candles surrounding the headstones. Cat had gotten down on her knees next to the grave and rested her forehead on the headstone.

_"Hola, Mami,_" she began. "_Traje a mi amigo, Cristóbal. El me gusta mucho. Pienso que a ti tambien el te gustaria. A papa el le cae bien. El es dulce y puedo ver que me quiere. Te extraño, Mami. Con esperanza, te veremos otra vez en el Paraiso. O, si vamos con mis creencias, en nuestra proxima vida. Te hablare mas tarder, mama. Quizas tratare de ir a la iglesia el domingo. Adios, mami_."

She stood up once again and rested her head on my arm. I could tell she was crying again. A priest came over with a bible and a rosary in his hands and tapped Cat's shoulder.

"_Le gustaria decir la plegaria de los padres difuntos y el rosario conmigo?" _he said. She nodded. They both crossed themselves and joined hands.

"_Oh Dios_," they began together, "_Quien nos lo ha mandado; Para honrar a nuestro padre y de la madre: en tu misericordia; Ten compasión de las almas de mi padre y de la madre; Y perdone hombres sus pecados; Y me hacen volver a verles; En la alegría del brillo sempiterno. Amen." _

The priest said something to her again, and she shook her head and said something else. He handed her the bible and opened it to a page and set it atop the headstone so Cat could read it. He produced another rosary and handed it to her. They both crossed themselves once again, but this time with the rosary in hand.

_"En el nombre del Padre, y del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo. Amen,"_ they said together while crossing themselves.

_"Creo en Dios, Padre todopoderoso, creador del Cielo y de la Tierra."_ They touched certain beads on the rosary with certain words._ "Creo en Jesucristo su único Hijo, Nuestro Señor, que fue concebido por obra y gracia del Espíritu Santo; nació de Santa María Virgen; padeció bajo el poder de Poncio Pilato; fue crucificado, muerto y sepultado; descendió a los infiernos; al tercer día resucitó de entre los muertos; subió a los cielos y está a la diestra de Dios Padre; desde allí ha de venir a juzgar a los vivos y a los muertos. Creo en el Espíritu Santo, en la Santa Iglesia Católica, la comumión de los Santos en el perdon de los pecados la resurrección de los muertos y la vida eterna. Amen." _The priest paused for a second as he turned the page. He did the same for all the other new verses.

_"Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo. Santificado sea tu nombre. Venga tu reino. Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo. Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día. Perdona nuestras ofensas, como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden. No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal. Amen._

_"Dios te salve, María. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo. Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre: Jesús. Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amen._

_"Gloria al Padre, al Hijo y al Espíritu Santo. Como era en el principio, ahora y siempre, por los siglos de los siglos. Amen._

_"Oh mi Jesús, perdónanos nuestros pecados, líbranos del fuego del infierno, lleva todas las almas al cielo, especialmente las mas necesitadas de tu misericordia. Amen._

_"Dios te salve, Reina y Madre de misericordia, vida, dulzura y esperanza nuestra, Dios te salve. A ti clamamos los desterrados hijos de Eva. A ti suspiramos gimiendo y llorando en este valle de lágrimas. Ea, pues, Señora, abogada nuestra: vuelve a nosotros esos tus ojos misericordiosos. Y después de este destierro, muéstranos a Jesús, fruto bendito de tu vientre. Oh clemente, oh piadosa, oh dulce Virgen María. Ruega por nosotros, Santa Madre de Dios, para que seamos dignos de las promesas de Cristo. Amen._

_"Oh Dios de quién Único Hijo nos ha otorgado los beneficios de la vida eterna, concédenos la gracia que te pedimos mientras meditamos los Misterios del Mas Santo Rosario de la Bienaventurada Virgen María, debemos imitar lo que contienen y obtener lo que prometen, a través del mismo Cristo Nuestro Señor. Amen._

_"Descansa en paz Alejandra Valencia Gasca de Domínguez,"_ the priest said.

"_Gracias, Padre,"_ Cat said. The priest left and went on to say the same prayer to the next grave, and the next, and so on.

"I thought you weren't all that Catholic," I said while she stared at the headstone.

"I still say Catholic prayers and I go to the Catholic church when I can be bothered to get up that early. I'm kind of stuck between Catholicism, the religion I made up, and my dad's Native American beliefs." She wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face in my shirt. "I miss my mommy."

For the third time today, I assured her everything's going to be okay.

After saying goodbye one last time, we headed for her flat again. When we got there, she told her family where we were going, and then she went to go wash the paint she missed off of her face. Before we left, she put her black veil back in the bedroom, and then changed into sneakers.

"Now you can see why I almost majored in theater," she said as we were about to walk through the doors of the restaurant. She grabbed my hand to make it look like we're together.

Cat actually put on a pretty good performance. I was almost convinced she was pregnant for a moment there. It was kind of hard to keep calm when she faked a fetus kick.

"Have you guys found out the gender?" the hostess asked as she led us to our table. Cat told her that we're "having" a girl. "Any names picked out yet?"

Cat said Esmeralda while I said Emily. She shot me a dirty look as we sat down. The hostess laughed and handed us our menus while she took our drink order.

"What drew you to theater in the first place?" I asked as she swirled the ice cubes in her lemonade around and then blew some bubbles.

"My school had drama club set up as kind of a credit recovery program for the kids who kept failing classes, which means me and my friends. I could've either joined that, or taken summer school. I think we both know which is the better choice. I ended up actually liking it. I never really got main characters though because they tried that once but I just yelled at everyone."

"What kind of stuff did you do, then?"

"Usually just background characters. I'd have a few lines. I think I've only had two major roles," she said. I asked her what they were about. "You know that episode of _Courage the Cowardly Dog_ where Muriel's nephew comes over and him and Courage get locked up in the bathroom?" I nodded. "We put on a production of our own twists on _Courage_ episodes. Basic plagiarism, but it was fun. In that one, I played the nephew. They said I should be the gender-swapped version of him because I had the biggest mouth. Do I have a big mouth?" She smiled as wide as she could. I have to admit, it was kind of wide, but I told her it was just fine. "The other major role was in a thing about drugs and shit, and I played the marijuana dealer. I said to them 'man, das racist' when everyone suggested me."

By the time we left the restaurant (after some ice cream), the sky was an orange-y pink. Cat said her feet hurt and convinced me to carry her on my back the rest of the way to her flat. She was surprisingly lighter than I had expected her to be. We had both decided it was too late for a film.

When we got back, Cat changed into something more comfortable and then sat down with Frankie and Yasmeen and started doing some weird girly stuff. Paris had apparently gone back to Quantico, Virginia (where her and Luis are living) because her job wouldn't let her take another vacation day. Her dad just kind of ignored them and continued to watch his show. I have a feeling he's kind of used to this kind of thing.

"Hey, bro. Wanna get outta here and get a drink or something?" Luis asked me. "I'm tired of hanging around all these girls."

After I had retraced my steps and got back outside, Luis led me to a pub only a few streets away. He threw a mini temper tantrum when the bouncer pronounced his name "Louise" instead of "Loo-ees". It wasn't long before he started asking me about my feelings towards Cat (or, as he said, his little cousin). I told him that I like her, but not that I _like_ her. I could tell he wasn't buying it, but he let it go. He then changed the subject to what I do for a living.

"I make videos on YouTube," I said. "You?"

"I'm in the Marines. Biggest mistake of my life." I asked him why. "Well, on my first tour of Kuwait, I saw the guy who bunks underneath me shoot a guy. This guy in a kufi came up to him, and did this." Luis put both of his hands on my shoulder and shook me a little. "And started saying stuff, so this guy just shot him in the face! Well, this Kuwaiti guy survived, but you still can't just go around shooting people in the face, you feel me?" He put his head down on the bar. When he lifted his head back up, I could see his eyes were lined with red. "When I first joined, they told me I was doing for the people, they told me I was helping get justice for the three thousand people who died on September eleventh. I would always hear my comrades talk about the Muslims as a whole. I couldn't leave my bunk without someone, who's supposed to be fighting for freedom and justice, say 'they're savages. They deserve to be bombed and attacked'.

"This war's going nowhere. Why did we even start it? I should have never joined the Marines." He put his head back down on the bar for a minute. "I'm sorry, bro. I don't get to talk about my time in the war a lot. Paris hates it when I talk about it, and I'm just not close with a lot of my colleagues."

I suggested that we head back to the flat. He agreed, downed his drink, and then we walked out.

_"¿Por qué no me lo dijiste? Pensé que teníamos una buena relación pasando aquí!" _someone said somewhat loudly from the other side of the door.

_"Nosotros solamente no queriamos hacerte daño, papi. Habría aplastado si supieras lo que Guillermo hizo a nosotros," _one of the twins said. Luis told me we should wait a little bit. A few moments later, all three of the girls came out.

"Dad gave us a bunch of money!" Cat said holding up some notes with a very excited expression. "Now we can go get wasted. On candy!"

She rushed us all the way to Tower City Center and then took us into a shop full of sweets arranged by colour. We each filled up our own bag full of candy.

Catlyn

After Chris and Luis left to do whatever, Yasmeen suggested we pull up _Make it or Break it _on Netflix and watching the final episodes. We have this schedule so we can all be in-sync and discuss it. There were only a few episodes left, so we decided to watch as much as we could while we could.

Jordan had just gone and trashed Coach Keegan's car, and she was sitting with Kaylie on the curb. She had just confessed to Kaylie that Keegan had sexually abused her. I turned to Frankie and put my face close to her ear.

"_Just switch out Keegan with Guillermo,_" I whispered to her in Spanish. I noticed my dad shift a little bit when I said that.

After the show was over, we switched it back to regular cable. My dad got up and stood in front of Frankie and me.

"_What did you say about Guillermo?"_ he asked sternly in Spanish. We told him we didn't say anything, but he still persisted. "_Don't lie to me! I heard you say his name! What did he do?" _Frankie and I remained silent. She put her head between her knees and started to shake. I presumed she was crying. My dad sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. "_Did he touch you?" _I nodded my head while trying my hardest to hold back tears.

"_It was when we still lived in Cuba,"_ Frankie said as she lifted her head up, "_and when mom would be out of town for her orchestra thing, and you'd be in the papaya fields all day, and Aunt Lupe," _that's Luis's mom, "_would be working, and Guillermo would watch us during the day." _

He put his elbows on his knees, and then balled his fists up and pressed them into his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck and then stood up.

_"How could I have not seen the signs? I've been forcing you two to sit through countless dinners with him. I could have protected you! Why didn't you tell me? I thought we had a good relationship going on here!" _he said slightly louder than usual. He only raises his voice at us (which is just barely above a normal speaking voice) when someone does something to _really_ piss him off. The last time he raised his voice at me like this was when I accidentally knocked over the TV and cracked it when I was seventeen.

_"We do, Daddy! We just didn't want to hurt you. It would've crushed you if you knew what Guillermo did to us," _Frankie said.

"Here," he said switching back to English and taking all the bills out of his wallet, "go to the candy store and whatever you want."

"Dad..." I said.

"Just go," he said pulling us into a hug and giving both of us a kiss on the top of the head. I grabbed my bag and left.

After Yasmeen, Frankie, and I left the apartment, we found Chris and Luis standing out in the hall. I made them all run to Tower City and we all went to The Sweet Factory and make our own bag of candy. After Chris, Frankie, and Luis went to get us all lemonades from the pretzel stand, Yasmeen and I got a second bag of candy. We made a pact to not let the others in on it.

I had already eaten half of my first bag, and asked everyone else for some handfuls from their on bags, by the time we left for the apartment. I was running up and down the streets while everyone else walked at an average pace. When we got into the lobby and headed up the elevator, I could tell everyone was getting tired of me. Frankie had already slapped my arm because I kept jumping up and down the elevator and making the whole thing shake. I was about to open the front door when we heard shouting from the other side.

_"_Fuck you, Guillermo. Get out of my life," we heard my dad shout. After a few seconds we saw Guillermo walk out with a bloody nose, a cut lip, and a swollen eye. Chris and Luis both stood in front of Frankie and I as he walked by.

"What did you do, Uncle Manuel?" Luis asked.

"Well, I hit him a few times and then I told him to leave," he said calmly while he washed his hands. He glanced up at Frankie and me. "I'm so sorry."


	8. Disposition

_Force, no matter how concealed, begets resistance._

-Native American Lakota proverb

_/n38/set?id=84059112_

Chris

"Go to bed soon, _mija_," Cat's dad said to her after everyone had calmed down. Her dad didn't really elaborate much on what happened between him and his brother. He tried to act like everything was okay, but I'm sure we all could tell by the way his tone changed that he was pretty distraught. "I'm planning on taking you guys to the art museum, the science center, and the natural history museum."

"Are you sure we'll have time to do all that in one day? You know how slow Cat can be," Frankie said. Cat retaliated by flicking her sister in the head.

"If you guys get up early enough. I figured we'd hit the science center first, then the natural history museum, and then the art museum. If we leave by nine or ten, we'd have more than enough time!"

After all of us had discussed the plans for tomorrow, right down to the time we woke up to the time our flight departed tomorrow, her dad went to bed, and Cat had gotten into the shower. Half-an-hour, she was out of the bathroom. Her hair was already dry (and it was already so curly and puffing out already), and she was in her pyjamas, which was just some shorts and a tank top.

"I forgot my hair products. Don't laugh," she said. She sat down on the couch next to me and pulled her curly hair back into a ponytail.

This was one of the first times I had ever seen her without make on. Even the day that I went with her to her gymnastics competition she had a little bit of eye make up on. For the first time in the four months since I've known her, I noticed a tattoo by her left eye consisting of three dots. Now, I'm really curious what it symbolises, but I'm too scared to ask. I could also see another one on her back, but I couldn't make out what it was, since her tank top was covering it up.

"Guys, I'm really tired, and you're sitting on my makeshift bed," Luis said. "Can you _please_ go to bed?"

Cat and I were the first ones into the bed room. I climbed onto the top bunk using the ladder, while Cat stood on the bottom bunk and hoisted herself up. We got under the blanket and found ourselves a comfortable position. She gave me a swift kiss on the cheek, said a sloppy goodnight, and then she turned her back to me and we fell asleep.

"Cat," I heard a voice say. "Cat, wake up." I opened my eyes a little bit and saw Yasmeen shaking Cat to wake her up. She said something else and then I saw Cat get up, and then I fell back asleep.

I woke up some time later to the sound somebody blending something in the kitchen. I tried to go back to sleep, but then someone came into the room.

"Chris," Cat said.

"What?" I whined, throwing the blanket over my head as she turned the light on.

"My dad made us all strawberry smoothies, and he said it's almost time to go. Get up!"

Reluctantly, I sat up. Unfortunately for me, I forgot I was on the top bunk and I hit my head on the ceiling. After I had come out of the bit of disorientation from hitting my head, I crawled down the ladder, got my everyday clothes, drank my smoothie, and told everyone I was going to take my shower.

"Is everyone ready?" Cat's dad asked us after I had gotten dressed. We all nodded and then headed out the door. All six of us walked out of the building and then across the street to the garage. After we all piled into the car, with her dad driving, Frankie in the middle, and Yasmeen riding shotgun, and Cat sitting between both me and Luis, we drove off playing, what I now have come to recognize as, La Coka Nostra and Immortal Technique. After about ten minutes of driving, we drove past the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame and pulled into the garage of the building next to it.

"Ah, the smelly Lake Erie breeze," Cat said as she got out of the car. She inhaled again and wrinkled her nose. I did smell a faint hint of dead fish.

After we had entered the building, we put our sweatshirts into a little locker, just so we wouldn't get hot and then have to carry them around the whole time, and then we went up the escalator. Her dad paid for all of our tickets (even after I insisted I pay for myself), the cashier gave us all coloured wristbands, and then Cat ran off to to the first exhibit. We quickly made it through the second level (since most of it was just reading and watching videos, not hands-on things), and then we went up to the third level.

The third level was full of exhibits people can play with. I tried to play the keyboard where I can change the instrument (like change it to a violin, or the bagpipes) and play little what I know, but Cat kept messing it up by banging on all the keys and switching the instrument in the middle of my performance. Frankie tried to play the _Powerpuff Girls_ theme song on the drums next to the piano. Yasmeen attempted to play the harp, but she just kind of ran her hand in the middle of the frame. Since it was just lights that projected down and detected movement in between, she could do this easily. Towards the end of the whole floor, there was this thing that tests speed with a baseball near it and we all threw it as hard as we could (Luis coming first, and Yasmeen last).

"I'm gonna run to the end and see how fast I am," Cat said waiting for the previous score the clear and then running as fast as she could to the end. "Fifteen."

"I can do better," Luis said doing the same as Cat. "Twenty-one!"

"That's not fair. You're also in the Marines."

"_You're_ a gymnast," he said matter-of-factly. Cat just gave him a dirty look and then we moved onto the next game.

Cat and I walked into this kaleidoscope thing. She told me to duck-face and took a picture. She tried to get everyone else in, but it was too small, so we just settled for Yasmeen. After we finished with the third level, we went back down to the second level and went through the gift shop. I got Cat these eyeglasses with straws at the end where she can put one end in a drink and the other in her mouth and the drink goes through the glasses part, and she got me a mini bonsai tree. Cat got some popcorn, and then we all went down to the first level, where the café is, and we got a meal, ate it quickly, and then we squeezed into the car again and drove to the Museum of Natural History.

We entered the first exhibit, which was indigenous animals and cultural things of parts of the word. Cat showed me where her ancestors were from.

"I don't think there's anything here from our ancestor's Nation," Cat's dad said pulling us away to the next region. The next exhibit was a bunch of dinosaur fossils, of which Cat was very into. An hour later, we made it to the discovery room, a place (which says it's for all ages, so it's okay) designed for children with a bunch of games and things. I towered ever every single person in that room.

"Your dad's going to drive me to the mosque for _Asr_. We'll only be like twenty minutes, and then we'll come straight back," Yasmeen said. "Your sister's going with us. Luis will be over by the spider."

Cat shuddered at the word spider, and then she went back to what she was doing, which was trying to match the animal to it's native land on a giant wall map. We then moved onto this big dinosaur fossil thing with ground up corn and built in fake dinosaur fossils that we can "discover". A kid that stood across from us hoarded all of the brushes, which made Cat mad. After a few minutes of us discovering, hiding, and then rediscovering fake dinosaurs, an adorable little kid walked up and tugged on Cat's shirt.

"Are you Uncle Gary?" he asked. Cat politely told him no, he shuffled away, and, as soon as he was out of earshot, she started laughing.

After she got bored with that, she made me sit down in a chair, that I'm probably going to break, and made me play with some dolls. Of course, I had to throw in a little innuendo, which caused Cat to gasp and remind me that there are children around. Luis took some pictures, since the doll house was right next to the spider. He promised her he was going to send her a few. Per usual, she got bored with that, and then we went back to the main level to wait for her dad to pick us up.

"Why are we waiting here?" Luis said. "The Art Museum is right across the street. Let's just walk there."

Cat promptly pulled out her phone and called her dad to tell him we were just going to meet them there.

The Art Museum is probably the coolest thing I have ever seen. It has beautiful high ceilings, and there's an indoor courtyard with glass ceilings, and escalators, and marble floors. I want to live in the Art Museum.

By the time we got there, everyone else had caught up with us. We first made it to the Islamic art gallery, just for Yasmeen. Then, we went to the Native American gallery, where Cat showed me which nations her families were from. Next, we went to the contemporary art gallery, where Cat complained to us how stupid she thinks contemporary art is. There were a quite a lot of good pieces in that gallery, but the ones she complained about where the ones with just two lines on a blank canvas. Eventually, we made it throughout all of the museum. With aching feet, we made it back to the car.

"What time does our flight leave?" I asked as I checked my watch and noticed it was getting late.

"I think at like six. I don't know. I'll have to check the tickets again," Cat said.

We made it back to the flat, we got our things, and then we rushed back to the airport.

"It was nice meeting you, son," Cat's dad said as he shook my hand.

"You too, Mr. Dominguez," I said as everyone else said goodbye.

Shorty after, everyone had said their goodbyes (with minimal tears from her dad), and we then Cat and I were on our way through security, just in time for our flight.

Cat

"Cat," I heard Yasmeen say. I knew it was her because of her accent. "Cat, wake up."

"Whatchu want?" I whined as I squinted my eyes from the light.

"Frankie says it's your turn to walk me to the mosque. She took me for _Fajr,_ and it's_ Zuher _now."

Lazily, I got up, took the first clean clothes from my bag I saw, and then went to the bathroom to look, at least, somewhat presentable. I called one of my friends from back in my school days and asked him if he could pick me up from the mosque and bring me back.

"Nice shirt," she said pointing to my Khader Adnan shirt.

Khader Adnan is a Palestinian man who, after being arrested and detained, went on hunger strike for sixty-six days to protest the treatment of Palestinians in Israeli prisons. _Supposedly,_ he was "suspicious", but the IDF also says _children_ with stones are suspicious. He was never formally charged with any crime, but the IDF still tortured him.

"Back at ya," I said pointing out her Che Guevara shirt.

I don't think I need to explain who Guevara is and why he's significant.

After we left the building, we found the closest bus stop, and tried to get dropped off as close to the Edgewater neighborhood.

"Are you gonna okay waiting here?" Yasmeen said as we were almost to the mosque.

"Yeah, I'm gonna walk you up to the door. I talked to one of my friends while I was getting ready and he said he'd keep me company. We'll be done before you've even finished."

We got off at the stop closest to Yasmeen's mosque and then walked the rest of the way. I didn't have to wait too long before one of my best friends (only after Yasmeen) from high school pulled up his beat up car.

"How much?" Lorenzo sarcastically said as he pushed open the scratched up door. "Whatchu need, ese?"

I told him what I needed, he promised he'd deliver. I even invited him and some of our other friends from high school over in a few weeks. We drove around the neighborhood for a while until Yasmeen walked out.

"Could you drive us back?" I asked as soon as I saw Yasmeen leave the mosque. "I don't wanna take the bus again." He agreed, so I waved Yasmeen over. She stuck her in through the open window and asked us if we could meet her at her house only a few streets away. We agreed and drove off. When we got there, Lorenzo was just going to have Yasmeen ask for one of her brothers to ask to take us home, but she insisted he stay to drive us home.

"_Asalamu alaikum, _Catlyn," Yasmeen's mother said as we walked into the house.

"_Wa'laikum asalam_, Mrs. Mustafa," I made an attempt to say back. My Arabic's pretty rusty.

Their house always smelled like sugar cookies. I've never figured out why, though. Never in the six years of our friendship have I ever seen her mother make sugar cookies, and I've never seen her spray sugar cookie scented air freshener, nor have I seen anybody in the Mustafa household light any sugar cookie scented candles in their tidy home.

As Yasmeen made casual conversation with her mother, as well as wait for her eldest brothers to come home, I just kind of sat there with Lorenzo. I fixed my eyes on a picture of Yasmeen's younger brother, Abdul, with his big goofy smile, and dirty face. He was always so gullible, yet so adorable. I was still looking at all of their family pictures when Yasmeen's two eldest brothers, Rashid and Jibreel, came into their home. Jibreel took on the father role after their father was killed by the IDF, being that he was the oldest son. Rashid is the second youngest son. He's the one that was sent to prison for stone throwing. He has pretty severe PTSD (as most in their family do) from the torture.

Everybody talked for a while, then Yasmeen got serious.

"_Bismallah_," Yasmeen began, "I don't want to get married to Karif."

That's this funny looking 40-something-year-old guy Yasmeen's mother keeps trying to set her up with. Obviously, she isn't into it.

"Who do you want to get married to then?" Jibreel asked.

"_Insh'Allah_, I want to get married to Francisca."

"_Yaa Allah_!" her mother said loudly. She looked like she was going to have an aneurysm. "_Na-Uzo-Billah_!"

"_Subhan'Allah. _Yasmeen," Jibreel tried to say calmly, "you know God and Muhammad, _salahlahu alaihi wa salaam_, said being homosexual was _haram_."

"I've read the Qur'an, too. No it doesn't. All the parts that you all think means being gay is wrong just mean for a man not to treat another man as his inferior as he would his woman! It doesn't even say I need to wear this hijab!"

Lorenzo and I just kind of sat on the couch while they yelled at each other for a while. Their smelly dog (that bit me the first time I came over) hopped up onto my lap and had that typical stupid dog look on his face. I watched her family members go through all the stages of grief all at once.

By the time her family at least somewhat accepted that Yasmeen wasn't going to change (which took almost forty-five minutes), Yasmeen and her mother were in tears, and her brothers were fuming. They were quite angry with Yasmeen, but once they realized she doesn't care what they think about this, they decided to just tell her to leave them alone for now.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that. _Yaa Allah_," she told us as Lorenzo struggled to turn his car on.

"It's fine, homie. Any friend of Cat's is a friend of mine. You needa place to stay? I got some eses that could hook you up, for real."

Yasmeen told him he'd just stay with Frankie until everything cools down. Eventually, we arrived back at the apartment, and Lorenzo and I went out separate ways for now. I told him I'd call when I got back to London.

"I'll talk to King Jorge tonight about the trip. Thanks for calling me today, Cat," he said giving me a final hug and then driving off with his stupid car.

After we had gotten inside, we told Frankie what had happened. Then, my dad told us it was almost time to leave, so I had to go wake up Chris.

"Chris," I said as I shook his sleeping body.

"What?" he mumbled groggily. I turned on the light as I told him my dad made us all smoothies. As he sat up, he ended up hitting his head on the ceiling (that's what he gets for being so tall). I laughed.

A half-an-hour later, we were on our way to the Great Lakes Science Center (and then the Museum of Natural History, and then the Art Museum).

Nearly seven hours later, Chris and I were about to board our flight back to London.

"Bye, Cat," Frankie said giving me a hug. "I'll see you later."

"All you have to do is look in the mirror," I said as I laughed at my own joke.

I said goodbye to my dad and Yasmeen, and then Chris and I made our way through security and we boarded our flight.

I tensed up and closed my eyes as the place started to ascend upwards. I've always hated places. After I watched _Final Destination_, I've never really liked much of anything. Those movies also sparked my fear of roller coasters. Even a slight fear of bridges after the most recent installment of the series.

"Are you okay?" Chris asked, putting his hand on my forearm. "You're crying."

"Yeah, I just really hate planes. That's why I try to get flights that're really late at night or early in the morning so I can sleep most of the time."

Nearly seven hours later, we were finally back at our apartments. We made plans to hang out tomorrow, and then we went into our separate apartments. I didn't even bother changing into my pajamas before I laid down on my bed with Copernicus and fell asleep.

**Also, I'm really lacking fics about the fantastic foursome. If any of you want to suggest yours or one you really liked, that'd be awesome! (I don't like phan or kickthestickz though. I only read ones where he gets with a female OC.)**


	9. Triad

_I have learned that a woman can be a fighter, a freedom fighter, a political activist, and that she can fall in love and be loved. She can be married, have children, be a mother. Revolution must mean life also; every aspect of life._

-Leila Khaled

Chris

_/uy/set?id=91304702_

On the Saturday following our return home to London, Cat and I were walking around town, looking for a place to sit down and have a cup of coffee together. Well, _I _was looking for coffee, Cat was looking for anything _but_ coffee. After we had found a little café, she told me about how her cat, Copernicus, hasn't been feeling well for the past month or two, and she was going to take him to the vet. I offered to take her there, but she declined because she already had a ride from Contessa.

"Little Copernicus hasn't been eating right, his fur is falling out, he's been losing a lot of weight, and his fur keeps getting messed up. Poor kitty," she said after we had gotten back to her flat. "I hope he's okay."

After she had left, I went back in my flat and messed around on the internet for a while. Eventually, I got bored and called some of my friends to see if they wanted to do something.

"Hey, Peej," I said as he answered the door. "You all right?"

He invited me in while he got his jacket and put his shoes on. We played a few rounds of _Super Mario _before we left for lunch. We talked about all of our usual things for a while, before he decided to bring up Catlyn and my mini holiday in America.

"Did you have fun?" he asked as we made our way to a nearby Starbucks. "What kind of things did you do?"

"We went to a bunch of museums yesterday. On Thursday, her family and I celebrated Day of the Dead, which is the whole reason why we were there in the first place. Cat told me about her mum (she died a few years ago), and that's really it. I had lots of fun. You should have been there. Maybe I can introduce you two later."

"Do you like her?" he asked.

_Where does _this_ conversation sound familiar? _I sardonically thought to myself, thinking back to the conversation Dan and I had the day she asked me to go back to Cleveland with her.

"I mean, you talk about her the same way I talk about Alicia," that's his girlfriend, "and I'm just curious."

"We kissed while we were in Cleveland," I said with a smile. I bit my lip as hard as I possibly could without breaking the skin to stop myself from smiling _too _big. "No big deal. It only lasted a few seconds."

"Good for you, Chris," he said as we paid for our drinks. We found a table, sat down, and finished our drinks. After we had finished, we headed back outside to find PJ's car. "Do you still want to introduce me to Cat?" I nodded my head and he started driving back towards my flat.

We made out way up to my own door and PJ put his things in my flat, since he was staying the night, and then we went over and knocked on Cat's door. In retrospect, I probably should have asked if she was busy beforehand. After a few seconds, Contessa opened the door, dressed in all black, and told us to come in.

_Great_, I sarcastically thought to myself as we walked in. I looked over at Cat, who was also in all black (she must've changed since I last saw her this morning), and saw her sitting on her bed with her cat curled up in her lap. She had _The Aristocats _playing on her laptop. I could tell it was almost over, being that _Ev'rybody Wants to be a Cat _is playing. She just continued to stare at her screen as Contessa lead us to the kitchen.

"What's with all the black?" I asked.

"Cat made me change in black because we're 'in mourning'," she said rolling her eyes.

"What?"

"Um, at the vet today, she found out that Copernicus has FLV, FIP, which are really deadly cat diseases, and, I guess, heart worms, too. The vet said she should put him down. So in response, she said we have to wear all black to mourn his impending death."

"Awe, that's terrible," PJ said and Contessa lead us over to where Cat was sitting. I glanced at her and noticed her eyes were lined with red and were slightly bloodshot. She gave PJ a sceptical look as he came into sight.

"Cat and Contessa, this is my friend PJ," I said while I motioned to each one at their names. "PJ, this is Cat and this is Contessa."

"Hi," she said trying to sound happy. "Sorry that this had to be your first impression of me."

"Don't be sorry, PJ said, "it's understandable. We'll meet some other time."

We all sat there for a bit, just watching _The Aristocats_, until Cat broke the silence between us all.

"Do you think he knows?" she said as she scratched Copernicus' tummy. "That he's going tomorrow, I mean."

"Probably not," Contessa said. "He's just a cat."

Cat sighed and then we went focused our attention back to _The Aristocats. _Afterwards, she asked us if we wanted to watch another, to which we all agreed, and then we went to her TV (since we were watching _The Aristocats_ on her laptop), and she put in _Oliver & Company. _

"It's getting pretty late. I'm gonna head home," Contessa said with a yawn.

"Yeah, we should probably get going, too," I said. All four of us stood up and said our goodbyes. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"It was nice to meet you," PJ said as we left.

We made our treacherous journey across the hall and started playing some video games. After a few hours, we got tired and decided to go to bed.

Catlyn

"Are you ready?" Contessa said as her bourgeoisie car pulled up in front of my apartment building. I nodded and plopped myself down in the front seat with the cat carrier in my lap.

"Hello again, Miss Gasca," the vet, Dr. Somani, said as he came into the office. I mentally cringed at his lack of understanding of _Latinoamericano_ naming customs, which are quite similar to Spanish naming customs.

"Mrs. Gasca is my mother," I said modestly. No, really. That's what she would be called before she married my dad. "Call me Cat."

"What seems to be the problem with Copernicus?" Dr. Somani said inspecting Copernicus.

"He's been really out of it lately. His fur keeps matting, which is weird for him. He's part Ragdoll, and that breed has non-matting fur. His fur has also been falling out in, and he hasn't been eating a lot. He just sits at the food bowl and looks it, but he doesn't eat a lot of it. He's also thrown up a few times in the past couple of weeks," I said as I continued on with some more symptoms he had.

After about an hour of drawing blood and doing some x-rays, Dr. Somani came in with a sad look on his face.

"Miss Gasca, You might want to sit down for this," he said before he let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't know how to tell you this really, but he has the feline leukemia virus and f_eline infectious peritonitis, as well as heart worms."_

"Is there treatment?" I asked as I tried to work past the physical feeling of my heart shattering.

"I'm sorry, but no, not at the stage his illnesses are at. I think it'll be in his best interest to put him down. He's in a lot of pain right now."

At that, I let it all out. I'm going to have to euthanize my baby. I'll never see him again, I'll never pet him, hold him.

"Do you want me to go get your friend?" Dr. Somani asked. I just nodded my head. A few minutes later, Contessa was by my side, rubbing my back in an attempt to comfort me. While I calmed down, Dr. Somani came in and tried to discuss appointments he had open. The most recent opening that he had was for tomorrow evening. I agreed to it, not wanting to let my baby suffer anymore.

When we got home, I made Contessa change into black to mourn Copernicus' fate. She offered to start calling around to pet crematoriums in the area who would do one on such short notice. He's my family, and even in death, I'll treat him just as I would a family member. When her time comes, I wouldn't just leave Frankie's body at the hospital for them to deal with her, now would I? No, that'd be disrespectful, and it'd be disrespectful to do that to a cat I've had for almost seven years.

I put in The Aristocats, and then Copernicus and I laid down on my bed to watch it. About halfway through, Chris and some other guy were knocking on the door. Contessa let them in (which made me kind of nervous), and went to the kitchen to update them. They came back a minute later and gave me their condolences. Chris introduced the stranger as his friend PJ. We wound up finishing The Aristocats and then we watched Oliver & Company, since their both cool movies about cats.

After everyone had left, I felt alone, so I decided I should call my dad to let him know about Copernicus' condition.

"Hola, Gato," he said when he picked up the phone. "How're you? Your flight get there fine?"

"Yeah, a little scary, per usual, but otherwise fine."

"_¿Estás bien?_ You sound sad."

"Yeah, I will be. I took Copernicus to the vet today and he's really sick. The vet said I'll have to put him down," I said. He gave me his sympathies before changing the subject.

"Gato, can I be serious with you for a moment? About Guillermo?" he asked. I told him to go on. "I'm sorry if you felt like I was blaming you for not telling me or if I made you feel bad when I yelled. I wasn't really mad that you didn't tell me, I was just mad that someone I considered my brother would betray me like that. I'm sorry that I kind of forced you to tell me, I should've just waited for you to tell me. I'm also sorry that I hit him and if it made you feel like I'm just as violent. And finally, I'm sorry I let it happen. I love you, Gato, you know that, right? If you ever need to talk or anything with me, don't hesitate."

I told him I knew he wasn't blaming me, and that I didn't think he forced me to tell him. I told him I love him too, but then he told me he had to go because a patient needed help. I started to feel lonely again, so I got on Skype, saw that Lorenzo was on, and called him.

"'Sup," he said as his sleepy face appeared. Behind him was black but his face was whitewashed by the light of the screen.

"I'm sad," I said. He asked me why, so I told him the story of my day. He, too, gave me his condolences, but then he wanted to talk about how I invited him here while I was in Cleveland. We talked about it for a bit and decided that him and a couple of our other friends will come by for my birthday, which is on the twenty-seventh. Before I got cozy, I made a bowl of popcorn to eat while we talked.

After a few hours of talking, I started to doze off, so we said our goodnight, and then went to bed. I cocooned myself under the covers, I called Copernicus over and he curled up into a little ball on the pillow next to me. Before I even started to fall asleep, I read a few of the scary, but not too scary, creepypastas until I got tired. It took me a while to fall asleep, but, eventually I was able to.

_/fghj/set?id=91305419_

I woke up to the sound of my alarm going off on my phone. I groaned as I looked at the time. It's too early! Okay, yeah, it's ten in the morning, but that's still too early! Eventually, I mustered up the energy to get up and do my daily routine. The only thing that really motivated me to get out of bed was the fact that all of the food is in the kitchen. After doing what I need to do, I just laid around all day. Sunday is the only day of the week I don't have gymnastics practice, and I'm wasting it by being a sad sandwich. It wasn't until late in the afternoon that I heard a knock on the door.

"Hey," Chris said as I opened the door and invited him in. "I just wanted to see how you're holding up."

"I'm fine, for now. Me and Copernicus have been lazying around all day," I said. "Are you busy later?" He shook his head. "Will you come with me? Contessa said she has 'things' to do, and I don't want to be alone."

By the time the appointment had rolled around, Chris and I were already in the waiting room of the vet's office. Twenty minutes had passed before Dr. Somani had finally called us back. Seriously, what's the point of making appointments if I'm just going to have to sit around and wait?

Dr. Somani had me hold Copernicus during the process. Chris was standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders. Dr. Somani found the vein and inserted the needle. I looked into Copernicus' big green eyes for a moment, thinking back to the first time I saw him. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Freshman year, I always had to cross underneath the highway to get from the suburbs to the downtown area. Usually, Lorenzo took this trek with me just to assure I'd be safe. One of those days, I saw some kids picking on this little kitten. As anybody would do, we shooed the kids away. The kitten was so ugly, he was cute. He had these huge ears that were too big for his small head, and his fur was matted and dirty. Assuming he was thirsty, I took the water bottle out of my bag and gave him some. Lorenzo took a peanut butter cracker pack out of his bag and fed the kitten just the peanut butter. As I was starting to walk home again, the ugly kitten cooed at me and gave me with look and I knew that I loved him. I named him Bacon. I begged my mom and my dad to keep him, but my dad said no. However, my mom said she'd try to butter him up and convince him to let us keep the kitten. A few weeks later, on a particularly cold day, if I remember correctly, Lorenzo had stayed home sick that day, so I was walking under that highway alone. I remember hearing a pained meow, and, assuming it was Bacon, I started looking for him. Eventually, I found him. But a rock had fallen on his little kitty leg. I wrapped Bacon up in my coat and went home. My mom took me to the nearest vet, and we fixed up his leg. After my dad realized that he couldn't throw a cat with a broken leg out on the street, he agreed to let me keep him as long as I took care of him. We had a draw to decide his name, because I was the only one that liked Bacon. The name we drew out was Copernicus.

After Dr. Somani had emptied the contents of the syringe, it was a few seconds before it did anything. Copernicus let out one of those big ol' cat sighs, relax a little, and then he closed his eyes. He took some deep breaths for a few seconds before he just stopped moving all together.

"Would you like a few minutes?" Dr. Somani asked. I nodded my head. Chris held me as I let out a few gross sobs.

"It's okay," he said as he rubbed my back. He sure seems to be telling me that a lot. "He's not in pain anymore."

"I know," I said, wiping my nose on my sleeve. Chris then helped me tie a small ribbon around the longest of Copernicus' fur and then cut it. After I had calmed down, Dr. Somani told me when I'd expect the ashes and such to arrive, and then Chris and I left after saying a final goodbye to my cat.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" I asked. "I'm not used to sleeping alone."

As expected, he agreed.

-  
**I changed her last name from Grenada to Gasca, so that's why you may have been confused about the name. I also changed the way her mother passed, as well as one of her assaults and I reworded that scene to make it more realistic. **

**I just realized that I wrote nearly 3,000 words mostly about putting a cat to sleep. I can't tell if that's good or bad... But I have some important stuff planned for the next one that I'm going to start as soon as I'm done with this. **

**Anyhow, I hate doing this because it makes me seem desperate, but could you plz review. It really boosts my ego and my motivation to see that people are reading and taking the time to type out to me that they like it or what I could improve on (because constructive criticism is just as good as praise and I encourage it). It's just something nice to see, and I appreciate every single review I get. **


End file.
